


the goddamn fight of my life

by deanc0ded



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s15e18 Despair, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, First Kiss, First Time, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Love Confessions, M/M, Spoilers for Episode: s15e18 Despair, Spoilers for Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, just like a touch of angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-24
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-25 04:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanc0ded/pseuds/deanc0ded
Summary: 15x18 fix-it. Dean gets pulled into The Empty with Cas, and they have to make their way back out together.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	the goddamn fight of my life

**Author's Note:**

> im not sure what i should rate this. they have sex but it is by no means explicit, so im just going to leave it as mature. anyways i have no idea what this is. i just watched 15x18 for the first time and i'm in need of some healing so i churned this out in a few hours. i hope you enjoy! <3 i stole the title from ivy by taylor swift. heller queen <3

This is it. The end of the world. For real this time. 

These are Dean's last moments alive. They're his final moments with Cas. It's his last chance to tell him everything he's sworn he would every day for the better part of the last decade. He's never had the guts. It seems now, standing in front of Cas, he still doesn't. The words are caught in his throat, sticky and viscous, like molasses. He can't force them up, no matter how hard he tries. 

"She's gonna kill you," is what he can say, as Billie beats on the door. With every pound of her fist, the warding flashes and gets a little weaker. "And then she's gonna kill me." 

Dean's shaking. He's never really been afraid of death, not until recently. He'd always known that he'd go down swinging, that he'd die in a pool of his own blood. He knew that after his death, Sammy would be able to leave the life like he had last time. He'd accepted that. He'd die, the world would keep turning, Cas would probably return to heaven, and everyone would move on with their lives. It's actually the outcome that's given him the most peace over the years. The one where at least Sammy got to have a happy ending. Except this time, he wouldn't. Nobody gets a happy ending when God decides to obliterate every universe he's ever created. This is the end of the line, and Dean and Cas both know it. 

Cas is just staring at him, the same hopeless expression painted on his face. It's a look that says _'This is it for us. There's nothing left to do.'_ He doesn't say _'I know,'_ or _'We can still do this.'_ All Cas says is "I'm sorry." They're the only words he can bear to spit out. Not the words that Dean hopes to hear. Never those.

Never. 

Dean hears Cas sigh and watches him jerk his head up. "Wait," he says, and Dean does. "There is... There's one think she's afraid of," he begins. Dean can already see Cas' eyes, how glassy they are. "There's one thing that's strong enough to stop her. When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him." 

A deal? A fucking _deal?_ His mind is going a thousand miles a minute. His blood is starting to boil, but he forces himself to simmer down. He wants to be angry, wants to throw things and yell and scream at Cas for making deals with cosmic entities. But these are his last moments with Cas, and he doesn't want to spend them angry. He can't do that to either of them. "You... what?" he tilts his head as his own eyes brim with tears.

"The price was my life," Cas begins, and Dean's heart drops. But that doesn't make any sense, because Cas is here, _and_ they got Jack back. If it was a trade, how come they still had both? His mind is going faster than Cas can speak, but Dean listens over his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and Billie's pounding at the door. "When I experienced a moment of true happiness, The Empty would be summoned and it would rake me forever." Dean actually relaxes a little at this, because they're literally facing Death right now. Like, the person. The entity. _The_ Death. How could Cas possibly experience _'true happiness'_ right now? They were about to die. Along with the rest of the fucking world. 

"Why are you telling me this?" Dean asks. Cas is a wondrous being that contains multitudes, but Dean can't think of a single way he could possibly be happy in this moment. 

He watches as Cas' lips curl into a bittersweet smile. It creates a black hole inside his stomach, because he knows Cas is really about to pull this off somehow. Motherfucker. There's ice in Dean's veins as he listens to Cas speak. "I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be. What my true happiness could even look like." Dean's heart is breaking, it's shattering into a million tiny shards and cutting up his insides. Cas isn't happy, and that breaks him. But he listens, because Cas seems set on getting this out there. "I never found an answer, because the one thing I want. it's something I know I can't have." Dean is watching the tears threatening to spill over onto Cas' cheeks. He knows from the bottom of his heart that they're tears of pure, unbridled joy. 

Cas' voice doesn't even come close to wavering as he continues, "I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it." A single tear had started to roll down his cheek, and Dean wants to wipe it away, wants the tears to stop. He doesn't want Cas to experience his true happiness, not if it means The Empty taking him. Dean recognizes that it's selfish, but he would take a lifetime of pushing his feelings down and living in pain if it meant that Cas didn't have to go. Cas' smile doesn't falter, not once. 

Dean is.. he's confused. He's lost, and he's scared. "What are you talking about, man?" he asks. His voice is nowhere near as steady as Cas' has been this whole time. He sounds wrecked, even to his own ears. He doesn't have the composure that Cas does, he never has. He never could. 

"I know... I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're 'daddy's blunt instrument.' And you think that hate and anger, that's what drives you, that's who you are." Cas' words slice into him like a hot knife through butter. He's right, he's right about all of it. He supposes that Cas has always known him better than anyone else, maybe even himself. He was, is, and would always be his father's weapon. John Winchester is long gone, he has been for years, but the mark he left on Dean is engrained deeper within him than the Mark of Cain ever had been. 

Dean thinks, for a fleeting moment, that maybe Cas' true happiness is telling him once and for all to fuck off. But Cas' next words strike him. "It's not," he says, "And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love," Dean feels a pang in his chest, "You fought for this whole world for _love."_ Cas doesn't know, can't know, just how right he is. Sure, his love for Sammy and his incessant need to save the world over and over has pushed him though a lot, but he would never had been able to accomplish half of what he has without Cas by his side. Without his love for Cas. He's never said it out loud, not even to himself. He tries not to even think about it, in fear of accidentally sending out a prayer to Cas in the process. 

Tears are starting to fall down his own face as Cas continues. _"That_ is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, _loving_ human being I will ever know." 

Dean wants to fall to the floor in sobs, wants to wrap himself around Cas and beg him not to do this. He can't, he knows he can't, but he wants to. He has to stay strong for Cas, even in their last seconds together. He guesses he's proving Cas' point about selflessness. If he was thinking of himself right now, he wouldn't be functioning. Wouldn't even be standing. 

"You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you... has changed me." Cas is still going, and Dean doesn't know how much more he can take. "Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of _you."_ The laugh that escapes Cas' throat feels heavy, sad. Even so, it's still full of light, still Castiel. "You changed me, Dean." The smile on his face never breaks, not once. They're standing closer now, gradually gravitating toward each other. Dean can reach out and touch Cas. He wants to, he just can't bring himself to. 

"Why does this sound like a goodbye?" Dean hears himself asking, but he isn't really there. Sam's words ring in his head, _'If I let myself go there, I'll lose my mind. I can't right now.'_ That's exactly how he feels. Because there are other words, words that are glued to the inside of his mouth and won't leave. He won't allow himself to say them, not like this. Not when it doesn't matter anymore. Not when the whole world will blink out of existence in no time. 

"Because it is," Cas smiles sadly. The sadness isn't for himself, though, it's for Dean. His eyes are still shining the brightest blue, and it stands out more than it usually does against his bloodshot eyes. 

"Don't do this, Cas," Dean begs, and he's still scared. Scared of whatever is coming next. If all of that didn't summon The Empty, Dean can't imagine what Earth-shattering revelation Cas is about to drop on him. Except, he can. He does. He knows somewhere inside him what Cas is about to say, and it makes everything so, _so_ much worse. He knows the words that are going to summon inky blackness and envelop Cas in an eternal nightmare forever. 

"I love you."

The next moments stretch into what feels like an eternity. He doesn't have control of his limbs as he marches straight up to Cas. He notes that Cas is trying to push him out of the way, trying to choke out one final goodbye, but Dean's having none of it. He knows Cas can fight him harder if he really wants, but he's not using any of his hefty angel strength. Dean fists Cas' jacket with one hand and cups his cheek with the other. It's a tender gesture, but what comes next is far from it. He doesn't know what else to do, how else to get Cas to stop trying to shove him away. He presses forward and all but smashes their lips together. 

It can hardly be called a kiss, Dean's pretty sure he's busted his lip on his own teeth with the force of it. Neither of them are moving their lips, they're just pressed together. Cas has just said the words that Dean's been too afraid to say since Cas rescued him from Hell. This is Cas' moment of true happiness, and Dean will be damned if he doesn't make the most of it for both of them. 

As he's kissing Cas, he's crying. He's pretty sure that they both are, and he hears a broken noise erupt from Cas' throat. The kiss tastes like salt and iron. As the seconds pass, Dean rubs his thumb over Cas' cheekbone and pulls him impossibly closer by the grip on his coat. Absently, Dean takes note of the sound of liquid sloshing somewhere behind him and he thinks he hears the door to the storage room busting open. He doesn't care. If The Empty wants to take Cas, it can take him too. 

One second, his lips are on Cas'. The next, nothing. Blackness. Only the ghost of Cas' lips and blood in his mouth. He could see, technically, but there was nothing _to_ see. If he looked down at his hands, his feet, his own body, he could see it. But around him, only Empty. Guess the place had that name for a reason. 

His heart is still racing and tears are still running down his cheeks as he brings a hand up to touch his lips. He turns around in circles, looking for something - anything. He knows there won't be, knows that this place is designed to be eternal nothingness. He can hear everything over the silence, the blood pumping through his veins, his own ragged breathing. He can hear the shuffle of his clothes as his chest heaves. Cas has to be here too, right? He's in here somewhere. Has to be. 

Dean's acutely aware of his clothes rubbing against his skin, his jacket rubbing against itself. His clothes feel heavy on his body, heavier than they ever have before. He trudges through The Empty, walking aimlessly. There's no direction in this place. No forwards, no backwards. No up or down, left or right. Nothing. Empty. 

He's forcing himself to walk, one foot in front of the other. He doesn't know if he's getting anywhere or if he's just treading. For all he knows, he's standing in the same spot, on an eternal treadmill of nothingness. 

However, as he walks aimlessly through this place, he notices that some directions are easier to walk in, while others are much harder. Nearly impossible. He pauses for a moment, and tries to figure out if he's being drawn toward something, or if he's being pushed away from something. If this unseen force is pushing him toward Cas, he obviously wants to walk in the direction he's so clearly being guided. But if it's pushing him away... this is going to be a long and difficult trek through nothing. 

Ultimately he decides that since he is, in fact, a Winchester, nothing about this is going to be easy for him. Even in the Empty, he's still known. Still hated. Nothing's ever easy for the Winchester brothers, so he pushes forward in the direction that is fighting him right down to his bones. Every step he takes, his body becomes heavier and the Empty pushes harder. 

Dean can't say how long he walks for. Every step feels like an eternity, every breath he draws in feels thin and stretched. He may walk for only moments, but it could be days. Weeks. Maybe even years. It felt like all of the above, all at once. He's crying again, fighting and thrashing against the invisible force. He's mad, he's irate. He keeps going. For Cas, only for Cas. He would have given up and walked in the easier direction long ago, if not for the sliver of hope he still has at seeing Cas again. 

As if on cue, he see's a tiny fleck in the distance. It's so short lived that he can't even be sure if he's actually seen it. Maybe his brain or the Empty were playing tricks on him. Maybe both. It's just a glimpse, barely a flicker. He blinks, rubs his eyes, and it's still there. He stops dead in his tracks. "Cas?" he says, but it's quiet. Only to himself.

He starts to move again, directly toward the fleck. It grows with each step, and then he's shouting. "Cas!"

The Empty tries its damnedest to push back on him, to keep him from Castiel. The harder he fights, thrashes, kicks, screams - the harder it becomes. He's forced to stop for a moment, hunch over. He places his hands on his knees and heaves, he has to catch his breath before he can continue, or he's pretty sure his heart will give out. The figure is closer now, and he can tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's Cas. It's Cas!

For the first time since arriving in The Empty, he feels lighter. Only just, but it's enough to propel him forward for a few more seconds. It's easier to move, even if it's only his imagination. He's shouting Cas' name the whole time as he walks, and he only stops shouting once the angel's head whips around to look at him. 

"...Dean?" he asks, running toward him as fast as The Empty will allow. Dean can see that Cas is struggling too, struggling against the same force that he is. The Empty, trying to pull them apart. Trying to separate them. Dean doesn't care. He doesn't care at all, because this Cas - _his_ Cas - had defied God himself just to love Dean. Fuck The Empty, Dean's getting to Cas if it kills him. He thought he'd seen the last of him, thought that he'd never have anything left of him except the taste of blood in his mouth. They're getting out of this place, they'll figure something out. And even if they can't, at least he'll be trapped here with Cas. Dean thinks fleetingly that he's pretty sure he could live with that. 

But it doesn't matter, he doesn't have to, because Cas is right there, right in his field of view. It takes anywhere from half a second to ten years for Dean to be back in front of Cas - he can't tell. Time is weird here, but it's fine. Everything's fine, because there he is. His angel. Dean can't do anything but stare at him, bewildered. He reaches out a tentative hand, terrified that this is all some sick dream and that his hand will swipe right through Cas' form. 

His face cracks into one huge smile when he feels the scratch of stubble across his palm. He wraps his hand around the back of Cas' neck and pulls him close. He tucks Cas' face into the crook of his neck and lets out a breath. "I'm so glad I found you."

Dean's body shakes as he vaguely notes that he's crying. It doesn't matter. He holds Cas close to him for a while before he pulls back to cup his face in both hands.

"I'm sorry that you had to find me, Dean. I never should have let you get sucked into this place, I should've fought you harder. You shouldn't be here, this isn't your burden to carry. It's mine." Cas shakes his head and wraps his fingers around Dean's wrists.

"Are you kidding me, Cas? I thought I would never get to see you again. What, you think you can just confess your undying love and die to save my life?" Dean jokes, his eyes still glassy. "Try harder next time. This time, I'm getting you out of here."

Even as they hold on to each other - _something_ in the vast nothingness - they can feel themselves being pulled apart. Maybe by the Shadow, maybe by The Empty itself. Dean doesn't know and he doesn't care. They're getting out. No matter how hard they have to fight to stay together, neither one of them is leaving this place without the other. 

"How are we supposed to get out? Any bright ideas?" Dean asks, gripping Cas' hand so tight that his knuckles start to turn white. 

"Well, you remember Purgatory. This place, much like that one, isn't built to contain humans. You should be able to feel a pull, something guiding you to an exit." Dean's eyes light up at Cas' words, but Cas' own look sad, defeated. "Dean, this place is meant to contain me. I don't even know if I'll be able to get through the rift. But I'll go with you." 

Cas' words strike him. _'I'll go with you,'_ he had said. Those were the words that sealed his death sentence, the words that got him trapped in the storage room with Dean. "Well, what if we... What if we made you human, too?" Dean suggests. It's all he's got. 

Cas tilts his head in thought, but eventually he nods. "That could work. You'd have to drain me of my grace in here, we'd have to leave it behind." Cas sighs. 

Dean furrows his brow as his lips turn downward. "I know it sucks, Cas. I know being human sucks after having all that... power. We can try getting you through the rift with your grace, if you want. I'll try, Cas. We can try," he says, pressing their foreheads together. 

"No, Dean. I'll live out the rest of my days with you, at home. It's the only way. And it's not so bad. Food is so much better as a human," Cas smiles and meets Dean's eyes for a moment. 

Dean laughs, but it's hollow. All of his words are, all of the noises in this place get sucked out of the air as soon as they're made. "Right, okay. If we drain your grace now, would we be able to find the exit faster? Since you'd be human, too. You'd be pulled toward the exit with me, right?" 

"Theoretically, yes. It's our only plan." 

Dean nods and pats his jacket and _yes,_ the angel blade he'd tucked away was still there. He presses it against the side of his neck, but doesn't press the blade to his skin yet. "I'm so sorry, Cas. I wish I didn't have to take this from you, man." 

"It's okay, Dean," Cas says in response, and his voice is gentle, calm. Ready. 

Dean winces as he draws the blade across Cas' neck, quick and shallow. It'd barely be a scrape after his grace was drained, but Dean feels awful for it. "So sorry, buddy," he says under his breath. 

Dean watches the grace flow from the open wound on Cas' neck and his heart breaks. It glows a sort of silvery-blue in the midst of The Empty, but the darkness swallows it whole after only a few seconds. Dean wishes he could bottle it up, save it and give it back to Cas once they made it out. But he knew that if Cas had his grace, The Empty would come back for him sooner or later. Maybe he's being selfish again, but he'd thankful for Cas' loss of grace. He's thankful that someday, they'll both wind up in Heaven together. He wonders if Cas is thinking the same thing.

"There are worse things to be than human, Dean. I'm not upset." 

Dean relaxes a little as the last of Cas' grace leaves his body. Cas slumps against him, tired and weak without his grace. He's still conscious though, so that's a good sign. 

"Okay, buddy. We gotta get you outta here, man. You feel it? The pull? Let's go, I've gotcha," Dean speaks quietly as he walks in the direction he finds easiest. He pulls Cas along with him, holding him up by his waist while Cas holds on to him over his shoulders. 

Dean isn't sure how long they walk for - again, time is screwy here - but after a while Dean can see a crack in the darkness. A tiny sliver of light spilling through into emptiness. "That's it, Cas. That's gotta be it. We made it, we're going home to Jack and Sammy," he smiles, and he swears he never used to cry as much as he is now. Tears well up in his eyes. He had saved Cas, for once. 

"Okay, Dean. Let's go." Cas' voice is rough, like his vocal chords are made of sandpaper as they rub together. He's gotta be tired after all that, Dean thinks, but they've made it. They're here. 

Dean holds on to Cas and they both reach out to touch the rift, and they're immediately pulled through and spat back out onto the floor of the Bunker's storage room. They were right back where the Empty had taken them. Dean's phone is sitting on the ground, vibrating nonstop, but he doesn't care. Does not care one bit. All he can do is stand here and look at Cas. He's bewildered, to say the least. Even though Cas is wearing his usual get-up, he looks different, somehow. Dean can't place it. He's sure it has something to do with Cas' new status as a human, but he likes it. 

"Hey, pal," Dean's the first one to speak, never breaking eye contact or missing a beat. He's back. They're back. They're home, together. 

"Dean, you should get that. It's probably Sam. He's gotta be worried sick about you." 

"About _us,"_ Dean corrects him, but he stoops down to pick up his phone and answer it. 

"Dean!" he hears, jerking the phone back from his ear. 

"Woah, heya, Sammy. No need to scream," Dean points at his phone and scoffs with a roll of his eyes, saying _'Can you believe this guy?'_ without actually saying it. 

"No need to- Dean. I've been calling you for three hours. Where the hell have you been? Dean, I- Jesus Christ. I thought Chuck had zapped you out of existence." 

"Nope," Dean says into the phone, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Just got sucked up by The Empty. Cas is with me, we made it back." 

"The Empty took you? What? Why?" Dean can't see Sammy, but he can see the ridiculous expression that matches the voice he's using clear as day in his mind's eye. 

"Well, uh, funny story..." Dean trails off, "Well, no, not that funny at all, actually. I'll tell you the whole thing later but, uh, The Empty came for Cas, and when it did, I was... too close to him, I guess. Got me, too." Dean is smiling at Cas as he speaks. 

"Right, I guess that makes sense. Well, whatever, I'm coming to get you, Dean. Stay in the Bunker. Everyone's gone. The whole world is... Gone, man. Vanished." 

"Chuck?" Dean asks, even though he knows he doesn't have to. 

_"Chuck?"_ Sam parrots, "I thought it was Billie, I thought..." 

"No, man. The Empty took her, too. It was Chuck all along, man. I'm sorry." Dean's voice is pained. 

"Okay, I- okay." Sam says, "We'll be there soon. Maybe ten minutes, could be less. There's nobody else on the road, man, it's creepy." 

"Okay, Sammy. Just drive safe. Get back to us," 

"Of course. Seeya soon," Sam says, even though both of them know that if Chuck decides to step in, he may not ever see him again. 

"Bye, Sammy." Dean hangs up. He turns his attention back to Cas, who's standing in front of him, watching him. Looking at him like he doesn't know what move to make.

Dean wants to scoop him up and kiss him until both of their lungs give out, but it would feel disingenuous. It would feel almost like a goodbye. Dean decides that he can wait, wait until they figure all of this out. Surely Chuck wont snap them out of existence without a little face-to-face first, right? He always did love a show. 

"C'mon, Cas. Let's- let's go wait for Sam and Jack." Dean looks down at Cas' hand, and decides to take it in his own and lead him through the Bunker to the War Room. They sit at the table there and stare at the huge iron door of the Bunker in silence, growing increasingly worried with every passing moment. 

"Dean, it's been fifteen minutes, what do we do?" Cas asks, standing up from the table and pacing. "I- I don't know what we do, Dean. I don't know how we can help them." 

"Here, I'll... Let me try calling Sam. Maybe we'll get lucky." 

Dean picks up his phone from the table and dials Sam's number, and he gets nothing. He tries again. Nothing. He calls every five minutes for an hour, before he gives up and, against his better judgement, throws his phone against a wall. It shatters into pieces and he crumples to the floor. 

Cas rushes over to him and crouches down alongside him. "Dean... I... I don't know what to say." 

"There's nothing _to_ say, Cas! They're dead. And we're next. I got you back, but it was for nothing, man! It doesn't matter!" Dean is in hysterics, about to start smashing bottles and chairs and anything breakable, really. But then, the Bunker door swings open, and there they are. Sam and Jack, perfectly fine. Not a scratch on them. 

They rush down the stairs, and Dean is in shock. "Sam? What the _fuck,_ man? You can't pick up a damn phone?" 

"We were busy, Dean! Shut up and let me explain."

* * *

About ten minutes later, Sam has explained everything to him, with a little help from Jack. Sam explains how Jack has been absorbing any and all traces of power. He explains that Chuck beat the ever-loving shit out of him, and how the power it took to do that was all sucked in by Jack. 

Jack is _God,_ now. Chuck is human. Jack put everyone back. 

"So.. you- you're just leaving?" Cas asks, looking up at Jack. He's been silent the whole time. 

"I... Yeah." Jack nodded. "I want to be hands off about this. I don't want to be part of the story. That's where Chuck screwed up, you know? There's a lot of work to be done, in Heaven. But I can stop by, see you guys. I'll always be around." Jack smiles, placing one hand over Castiel's, which are clasped together on the table in front of him. Jack looks... older. Impossibly wiser. 

"Well, in that case, will you stay for dinner?" Dean asks, offering Jack a smile in return. 

Jack tilts his head - he's unbearably like Cas - and slowly shakes it. "I... can't. Not tonight. But I'll be back, Dean. I'll be back soon," Jack offers. Then, with one last squeeze of Cas' hands, he disappears before their eyes in a soft flash of light. 

Dean exhales softly, it's all he can do. "He's- our kid is God." 

"Looks like," Sam nods. "He'll come back, though. Said he would. He can come visit without changing anything. He will, he'll come back," he says. 

Dean looks up at him, smiling. "Yeah, he'll be back."

Sam forms his lips into a thin line, half smile, half grimace. "Yeah. Hope so. I'm gonna get to bed. Long day." 

Dean and Cas nod their heads at him, and Dean watches him go. 

It's just him and Cas now, sitting across from each other at the War Room table. Dean can't think of any words. There isn't any right or wrong thing to say, he just can't think of anything at all. Can't make his brain translate his jumbled thoughts into words. 

What is there to say? Cas had sacrificed so much for him in just the last few hours. He'd started with his life, followed shortly by his grace. Cas is human now, and it's his fault. But Cas is also alive, and here with him. That's his doing, too. But does Cas even want that? He had obviously been happy to give himself over to The Empty, so did he even truly want to be here? Or would he rather be sleeping forever in The Empty, leaving Dean to work out his life on his own?

Life isn't something Dean particularly feels like doing without Cas. He doesn't want to give him up, doesn't want to let him go. He had allowed himself to be pulled into The Empty, willing to die with Cas just to give him a taste of what would make him truly happy. And he would do it again, too, even with the guarantee that neither of them would make it out alive. He _really_ did not feel like doing this whole life thing without Cas. He knows what he should say. 

"You'll stay, right?" 

It comes out quieter than he intends, but he looks up to meet Cas' eyes anyways. "Cuz- I mean," he clears his throat, "This is your home, too. It's your home if you want it to be." 

Cas is smiling at him, and nodding. "Of course I'll stay, Dean. I never intended not to, even if you wanted me to go. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Dean disguises a soft sob as a laugh, shaking his head. "Don't ever wanna be rid of you, man. Never." 

"Good. Me either. Dinner?" 

"Yeah, what're you thinking? And you can't have a peanut butter and jelly for dinner, Cas, don't even think about it."

Cas visibly deflates and shoots Dean a bitchface for a moment before relaxing back into his chair. "Yeah, okay, I guess you're right. Burgers? I enjoyed yours even as an angel, when I couldn't taste them the way you do. I bet they're wonderful." Cas is grinning so wide by the time he finishes his sentence, and Dean is staring right back at him with the same expression. 

"Dude, _yes,"_ Dean says, jumping up out of his chair and racing to the kitchen. He's not even checking to make sure Cas is following, he knows he is. 

They get to the kitchen and Dean immediately starts cooking. He forms two patties and throws them into a skillet. He's always wanted an actual grill to do this on, but it was hard to find time to pick out a grill, let alone use one, amidst the never-ending string of apocalypses. He figures maybe now he'll have the time. But for now, the cast iron skillet he'd splurged on sometime last year would have to work. 

Cas stands across the kitchen from him, and the hair on the back of Dean's neck is standing on end. He can feel Cas' gaze on him, and it makes him more nervous than it ever has before. This is the first moment they've had alone together since the kiss where there wasn't something more pressing taking up all of their thoughts. Dean didn't know if he was expected to bring it up since he had been the one to initiate it. But if Cas knew him the way he had claimed to before getting pulled into The Empty, he probably already knew that Dean wouldn't. 

After flipping the burgers, Dean reaches around to scratch at the back of his neck. He feels nervous, and he can't pinpoint why. He should just be able to talk about it, right? Cas is his best friend, he has been for years. This really shouldn't be this hard or confusing. 

Just as Dean is starting to freak out, he feels a hand on his waist and another body brush past him. The touch is there-and-gone, but Dean's pretty sure his heartbeat doubles. Then it happens again, and Cas is brushing past him in the opposite direction. Cas settles next to him, leaning up against the counter. He offers one of two beers he had pulled from the fridge with one eyebrow raised. 

Dean's lips form a thin smile and he's positive that Cas has noticed the flush creeping up his neck if the smirk on his face means anything. Dean clears his throat and takes the beer that Cas is offering, opening it on the edge of the counter and chipping it just a little. He shrugs his shoulders and lets the cap fall to the ground with a _plink_ before bringing the bottle to his lips. 

"Dean, there's a bottle opener literally right in front of you on the counter," Cas huffs, and reaches for it himself to open his own beer. He rolls his eyes. 

Dean shrugs at him again, "Yeah, and? It's cooler opening them on the counter. I like it." 

"Yes, well, it also _damages_ the counter. The Men of Letters would be displeased, I'm sure."

"Yeah, well all those guys are dead except us three," Dean says, gesturing in the general direction of Sam's room with the neck of his beer bottle. 

"Three? You consider me a Man of Letters?" Cas tilts his head. 

"Well, sure. Yeah. You're family, Cas, and me and Sammy are Men of Letters. Only makes sense that you're included in that, too." 

Cas just offers him a sweet smile before dropping his gaze to the ground and taking a swig from his bottle. He reaches up to squeeze Dean’s bicep without looking up. Dean gulps, and then the touch is gone. 

The burgers, _shit, the burgers._

Dean turns his attention back to the skillet and he takes both patties out and places them on a plate. He grabs buns, lettuce, onions, cheese (no tomatoes - Cas hates them), and anything else he can think Cas might want on his burger. He places both burgers onto buns and puts one of them on a second plate. He hands it to Cas, "You can put whatever you want on it. If I'm missing anything just let me know and I'll grab it for you." 

Cas smiles and catches Dean's wrist, circling it with his fingers. "Thank you for cooking, Dean. It smells delicious, and I'm sure it will taste even better." 

Dean swallows again and nods, his eyes flickering downward to Cas' hand at the point of contact. "'Course, Cas. Anytime," he says, and he means it. He would happily do this for Cas every day, three times a day, for the rest of his life. He'd do it as often as Cas asked him to. 

Cas squeezes his wrist just once with another smile before he makes up his burger, and Dean does the same. They sit across from each other at the table and eat in relative silence, aside from Cas' appreciative moans of approval. It's effecting Dean more than he'd ever admit out loud. 

They finish up their food and Cas wipes his mouth on a paper towel, smiling at Dean. "Thank you so much. That was fantastic. I could eat those every day forever, I think." 

Dean smiles back and he's sure he's blushing again. He clears his throat before the smile slowly slides off his face, and then they're just staring at each other again. This seems to keep happening. Dean figures he might as well get it over with, so he opens his mouth to speak. "Cas, did you mean it?"

"Of course, Dean. Your burgers are delicious, you know that."

Dean can't help but chuckle. "No, no. I mean, thank you, but not that. I meant..." he trails off, folding his hands in front of him above the table. "I meant... Before we were sucked into The Empty, Cas. You said a lot of stuff." 

'Yes, and then you kissed me," Cas muses, dodging the question. 

"Well?"

"Of course I meant it, Dean. I know I'm guilty of deceiving you in the past and for that I will always be sorry, but I would never lie about something like that. Not to you." Cas offers a melancholy smile, and stands up from his place at the table. "Now, come on. Let's do the dishes." 

Dean is stunned. He figured Cas hadn't been tricking him just to summon The Empty, but having verbal confirmation is making his stomach do backflips. Does that mean... Does that mean he could just walk up to Cas any time now and kiss him? If he wanted? Would Cas be opposed, or disgusted, or taken aback? Or would he lean into it, making sweet little noises into Dean's mouth? Noises similar to the one's he'd made while eating the burger Dean had made him? That particular line of thinking makes Dean's stomach flip even harder. He thinks he might burst into flames right here in the kitchen of the Bunker. 

Cas waves a hand in front of his face, apparently he'd been zoned out. "Dean, come on. It's fine, I don't expect anything out of you, I know that you kissing me was just an attempt at saving me. It worked, and I owe you the rest of my human life. But you still have to help me with the dishes." 

Dean's eyes go wide, "What? Cas, no," he shakes his head. "I mean, yes, it was an attempt at saving you, of course it was. But if it didn't work, I couldn't let you die without knowing how that felt." Dean's voice gets softer as he speaks. 

Cas' face goes blank, unreadable. "Right, that's fine. Life-saving kiss, pity kiss, it doesn't matter. The point is that I don't expect anything more out of you. I'll do the dishes. You should get some rest," he deadpans, turning back toward the sink. 

_"Fuck,_ Cas. No. I meant I couldn't lose you without knowing how it felt for _myself._ That kiss was for you, sure, but it was just as much for me, too. And you know I suck at this shit, Cas, you know I'm not good at talking about it. But I want to try, man. You're my best friend. You deserve at least a little bit of effort out of me." Dean's words are hurried and urgent as he speaks, and his eyes are welling up with tears. He really should have been clearer and worded things differently. He's never been a wordsmith. 

Cas' eyes soften as he slowly turns back around to face Dean. "You were always very concise in your prayers to me, Dean. Do you remember what you prayed to me in Purgatory?" Cas asks, and Dean nods silently. "I think that may be the most honest you've ever been with me. I'm going to miss not being able to hear you pray to me." The last sentence is spoken with very clear sadness, and Dean's crying now. There are tears running down his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry, Cas. I'll try really hard to be honest with you, okay? Starting now." Dean strides forward until he's crowding Cas' space. He leans down so their faces are nearly touching, and he can hear Cas' breath hitch. "I'm glad you love me. I'm glad I kissed you before we got sucked into The Empty. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner. I want to kiss you again." He's speaking through his tears, even though it's hard and he feels embarrassed. 

"I do love you, Dean. Even if you feel undeserving." 

Dean huffs out a laugh through his sobs and brings his hands up to hold Cas' face. "I do. I do feel undeserving. I probably always will," he admits, trying again with this whole honesty thing. "But I love you back, Cas. I love you." The words roll of his tongue in succession, and they're way easier to say than he ever thought they would have been. He says them like he's been saying them for a lifetime. He feels like he has been, too. Maybe that's just because he's been _feeling it_ for a lifetime, even if it was under the surface. Even though those feelings had to be dragged up by Cas' dying confession, they were still there, spilling out of him after simmering for over a decade.

Dean's pretty sure he'd been gone for Cas the second he plunged that demon blade into his chest. He had watched him tilt his head and almost smile, and pull the blade out of his chest like it was nothing. He was terrified, but he was in awe. It was easy for Dean to sometimes forget the way Cas had been when they first met. A soldier of Heaven's army, a cog in Heaven's machine. The man standing before him now had dragged his broken and battered soul out of Hell. It's hard for Dean to believe, even now. After every betrayal, every heartbreak, Dean's always forgiven Cas. And he always will. Even when he had every reason to shut Cas out of his life for good, he never did. He never will. And Cas had told him that it was all _his_ doing. That _Dean_ had changed him. His heart beats impossibly harder.

“Dean...” Cas whispers, and it’s broken. His voice sounds wrecked and it breaks Dean’s heart all over again. He leans forward and connects his lips to Cas’ cheek, and then the other one. Then he leans up and presses a kiss to the center of his forehead, then his nose, then his jaw on either side. Cas is making these soft little noises, noises that Dean wants to taste on his tongue and swallow whole. 

Dean really can’t believe that he’d found it so hard to say how much he loved Cas only a few (Earth) hours ago. Now, he never wants to stop saying it. He continues to pepper soft kisses all over Cas’ face and neck, running his fingers through his already half-messy hair. He eventually stills, bringing one hand down to hook his finger underneath Cas’ chin. He tilts his face up, looks into his eyes, and whispers: “I love you," once his own tears have subsided. 

Cas truly and genuinely _whines,_ and Dean is gone. He presses forward and connects their lips again, much gentler than he had only hours before. No two kisses have ever been more different. The first kiss was all teeth clashing, lip-splitting desperation. This one is full of love, full of care. Dean’s lips slide against Cas’ like they’ve both been doing this for all their lives. Cas’ hands are settled on Dean’s waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

And Cas is making these _noises._ They’re broken, choked off moans and whines that Dean is lapping up with his tongue. Cas is pressing him back, slowly walking them backwards into the first solid surface that they hit which just so happens to be the table they were just sat at. Cas continues to press forward, which causes Dean to have to break the kiss with a soft laugh. “Here, let me just...” 

And with that, Dean hops onto the table and spreads his legs, letting Cas crowd the empty space between them. Usually, he stands two or three inches taller than Cas, but at this angle Cas is towering over him and he _loves it._ Cas is breathing heavily into his mouth between kisses, and Dean drinks him in. They’re sharing the same space, the same air, and Dean never wants it to end. “Love you so much, Cas. Sorry it took me so long to say it,” he breathes, placing his hands on Cas’ hips and pulling them flush to his body. 

“It doesn’t matter, Dean. Not anymore. I forgive you, of _course_ I forgive you,” Cas says, parroting Dean’s own words from Purgatory back at him. Cas’ hands hold the sides of his face gently, like Dean’s made of glass and if Cas isn’t careful, he might break him. 

Tears are welling up in Dean’s eyes again as he presses forward, connecting their lips again. “Cas,” he breathes, and it’s a prayer. Dean thinks to himself that he finally understands worship, religion. To have such total faith and trust in something, some _one,_ is a beautiful and all-encompassing thing. The kiss turns languid and salty as tears fall from Dean’s eyes. 

Cas pulls back after a few more tender kisses, and he wipes Dean’s tears from his cheeks. Dean doesn’t even try to hide his face. He just closes his eyes and allows Cas to wipe away the wetness. Dean eventually cracks his eyes open as he sniffles. "There he is," Cas says softly, cupping his cheeks. "My righteous man." 

Dean instantly crumbles again, throwing his arms around Cas' middle and laying his head right on his angel's chest. Soft sobs are wracking his body, but he can't let himself care right now. He just lets himself be held. He lets Cas cradle his head and rub his back, and whisper sweet words into his hair. He's tired of the game they've played. He's tired of the dance. He wants to hold and be held by Cas. He doesn't ever want to stop. And he's tired of pretending it's something he doesn't want. He's tired of pretending it's something he can be content without. 

Eventually his cries lessen, the tears stop. He sniffles and laughs softly at Cas' shirt, which he's soaked. "I snotted all over you, man, I'm sorry," he says, wiping the wetness from under his eyes. 

"Oh, that's okay. I'll just steal one of your shirts, and we'll call it even," Cas smiles, and his own face is shiny with tears. Not as many as Dean, granted, but there were definitely tear tracks below his eyes.

Dean reaches up to wipe them away and nods, "Of course, c'mon." 

Cas takes Dean's hand in his own and allows himself to be led to Dean's room. They step inside the threshold and Dean leaves the door cracked. He goes over to his closet and pilfers through it for a moment, and he turns around with an old, faded AC/DC t-shirt. "This is one of my favorites, it's really soft and loose. Been worn a lot over the last two decades. Surprised it hasn't fallen apart yet, but here," Dean says, tossing the shirt to Cas after pulling it off the hanger. "You want some different pants, too? Your tax accountant get-up is probably a lot more uncomfortable with your freshly-human status." 

Cas hums and nods, "Mm, yes. It is. That would be really nice, Dean. Thank you," he smiles. Cas walks up behind Dean as he's rummaging through one of his drawers and wraps both arms around him from behind. He hooks his chin over Dean's shoulder, watching him search for a pair of pants. "Those," Cas says, pointing an extremely vague finger in the general direction of the drawer. 

Dean laughs. "Which ones? These?" He holds up a pair of red and black buffalo check pajama pants, and Cas nods. "Okay, awesome." He whips around and lays them over the shirt laying across Cas' arm. He makes a soft noise of surprise when Cas leans forward to connect their lips again. He notices absently that Cas has already shucked off his coat, and is starting to unbutton his shirt. Dean feels his stomach doing backflips again, and he pulls his lips from Cas'. 

Cas whines, still looking up at Dean as he continues unbuttoning his shirt. Dean gulps, "Let me give you some privacy, buddy. I'll wait in the hall until you're changed, then we can watch some TV or something, okay?" Dean suggests. He knows how he feels about Cas, knows that he loves him more than life itself, but he knows if he sees Cas in a state of undress right now, every last bit of his resolve will crumble and he'll spread Cas out on his bed and- nope. Can't go there. Gotta get out. 

Dean pecks Cas' lips one last time. "I'll just be out in the hall, sweetheart."

Cas offers him a soft smile and a nod in return, and Dean slips out from between Cas' body and the dresser, heading for the door. He shoots Cas a wink before he pulls it closed and waits for Cas to give him the all-clear. His heart is pounding, Cas had only gotten his shirt halfway unbuttoned before Dean forced himself to rush out of the room. 

"You can come back, Dean! I'm decent!" Cas calls from inside the room, and Dean takes a deep breath in and pushes the door open. He melts when he's met with the sight of Cas relaxing against his headboard in his clothes. 

"Oh god, you look _cute,"_ Dean says, closing the door behind himself. "Now I feel overdressed," he mutters, still wearing his jeans. 

"You can change that," Cas smiles innocently, but there's a glint in his eyes that Dean can't quite place. Regardless, it makes his whole face flush and he starts to stammer. 

"I-I uh, y-yeah. Yep. Uh huh, just gonna- fuck. Gonna change." Dean cringes at himself as he turns around to the drawer with his comfy pants. He's flustered underneath Cas' gaze, wonders if Cas likes what he sees - if it's good enough. He's not going to ask Cas to leave just so he can change, he'd feel like a dick. Especially because Cas had looked so comfortable and relaxed when he walked into the room. He pulls out the first pair of pants he sees. He rids himself of his jeans as quickly as he can, sliding them down his legs and stumbling a little as he steps out of them. He pulls his sweatpants on just as quickly, turning around to find that Cas has turned over and wasn't even watching him. It warms his heart but also makes him feel even dumber, he was worried about Cas' criticism of his body when Cas had respected his privacy, after all, without even being asked to. 

Dean clears his throat. "Okay, buddy. I'm covered," he lets out a nervous chuckle and walks over to his bed, and he sits on the edge, afraid. He doesn't want to cross a line, desperately wants to make sure Cas is comfortable. This thing between them has only just begun, and Dean could never forgive himself if he managed to fuck it up this quick. 

"Come here, Dean. Just lay with me, it's okay," Cas coaxes him, rubbing the spot in bed between them. Dean listens to him wordlessly and lays down on his side facing Cas. He props himself up on one elbow and smiles sheepishly at Cas. 

Cas' hand comes up to curl around the back of Dean's neck, running his fingers through the short, coarse hairs at the base of his neck. Dean's stomach is in knots all over again, he's _nervous._ He's fairly certain that if his hands weren't resting against either his head or the mattress in the space between them, they would be shaking. Cas trails the hand he has in Dean's hair down his bicep, forearm, inner wrist, and then comes to a stop to lace their fingers together. "It's okay, Dean. It's just me, you know me. I'm right here."

Dean actually does relax a little bit at that. Sure, their feelings may be out in the open now, but Cas is still the best friend he's ever had. They'd (literally) been to Hell and back, so Dean can handle a little bit of intimacy without taking things too far. His biggest worry at the current moment is overwhelming Cas with all of his dirty thoughts. He's never been one for self-control, and he's sure that if he had seen Cas with his shirt off mere moments ago, they would probably be in a much more compromising position right now. Cas is newly human again, and Dean doesn't want to overwhelm his senses and upset him. He brings their interlaced hands to his lips, kissing the tips of each of Cas' fingers one by one. "Love you," he breathes. "Love you so much, Cas. Castiel." 

Cas smiles and wiggles closer to Dean, slotting one leg between both of Dean's. He presses in closer until they're chest to chest, hands clasped between them. Cas slides his hand out of Dean's grasp to brush his thumb over his cheekbone. "You are so beautiful, Dean Winchester," he whispers reverently. His brow is furrowed as he presses forward, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against Dean's. "I know you don't take praise very well, Dean, but I also know that you need it." 

Well, way to knock the wind straight out of a guy, Cas. Dean feels like he can't breathe, like all the air has been wrung out of his lungs. All he can bring himself to do is nod, hooking one leg up over Cas' hip. He doesn't dare open his own eyes out of fear of drowning in the million shades of blue that reside in Cas' irises. He forces himself to even out his breathing, allowing himself to just _feel._ Dean hasn't let himself relax like this at all in recent years. And the fact that it's with Cas... that's better than anything he ever could have hoped for. He wraps the arm that isn't propping his head up around Cas' middle and dances his fingers up and down his spine, which earns him a couple of hums and shivers. "That feel nice?" he asks, just to be sure. 

"Very much so, yes." Cas says, and his voice turns Dean's brain to liquid. He's speaking quieter, lower than usual. And his voice has a special kind of rasp to it, just barely scratchier than usual. It's making Dean's brain short circuit.

"Good," Dean hums, continuing his movements. He takes a risk and skirts his fingers below the hem of Cas' t-shirt, just above the waistband of his sweats. He finally cracks his eyes open, and he's met with the most beautiful expression he's ever seen on another person's face. It might help that it's Cas' face, but still. 

Cas' eyebrows are furrowed, his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, and he's looking up at Dean through hooded eyelids. He looks like he's about to melt under Dean's touch, and it makes Dean swell with confidence. He tilts his head and leans in to press soft, open-mouthed kisses to Cas' neck. He flattens his palm against the skin under Cas' t-shirt, pressing their torsos together. "You make me nervous," he whispers against Cas' neck, raking his nails lightly over the small of his back.

"I do?" Cas asks, but he makes no move to pull away from any point of contact with Dean. He just tilts his head to give Dean better access to his neck and lets his eyes drift closed.

"Yeah," Dean breathes, grazing his teeth over the skin of Cas' neck. This earns him a whine, and he feels Cas trying to get closer, trying to crowd his space. Dean's heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might beat right out of his chest. He's gotta stop, he can feel himself growing harder beneath his sweatpants and he really wants to do this right with Cas, he wants to woo him and make him feel special and loved. He presses one last kiss to Cas' neck before he reluctantly pulls away, and Cas just looks back at him like he'd hung the stars himself, even though Cas was there when every star in the sky had burst into existence. 

"Are you alright, Dean? Did I do something to make you nervous?" Cas asks, tilting his head. He looks so concerned, bless his heart. Dean reaches up to run a hand through his hair. 

"What? No, Cas. Not at all, I'm just..." Dean trails off and shakes his head. He flops over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He lets out a huff and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

"Dean, remember what we said about honesty?" Cas prods, but that's okay. Cas is allowed to prod. If anyone has permission to do that, it's him. 

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Dean sucks in a deep breath before he opens his eyes, but he still doesn't look at Cas. "I don't want to do something that you don't like. I- God, Cas, I took your grace in The Empty, man. You're human now, and it's my fault, and I really can't imagine how overwhelming that must be." 

Cas lays a hand over Dean's chest. "Oh, Dean," he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Dean, you saved my life. I'm nothing but grateful for that, do you hear me?" he asks, grabbing Dean's chin to angle his face toward him. "Being human is... well, overwhelming. You're right about that. But you have to understand that you make it worth it. There are so many intricacies to humans, they've interested me for millennia. And don't forget that I've been here once before." Cas rubs Dean's chest absently as he speaks. "There isn't anything you could do to upset me or overstep. I just wish to be here with you. Anything more is just a bonus." 

Dean is staring up at him with glassy eyes and nodding. "I love you so much that I don't know what to do with all of it," he whispers, and he's sure his lip is quivering. He reaches up to grab Cas' face and pull him down, just so that Cas will stop _looking_ at him like that. He thinks he might break if Cas stares through him any longer. 

They kiss, they kiss, and they kiss. It's languid, tender, and full of all the words they'd both held in for the last 12 years. It's 100 _'I'm sorry's_ and _'I forgive you's_ all at once. Cas moves to straddle Dean's waist, bending down in order to keep their lips connected. Dean's fingers press into Cas' hips. He gasps into Cas' mouth, which gives Cas the perfect opportunity to prod his tongue just barely past Dean's lips. Dean whines, and he feels like a fucking teenager. He hasn't wanted someone this badly, well, ever. He leans up into the kiss, reaching one hand up to cradle the back of Cas' neck while the other one wraps all the way around his waist. 

"Yes," Cas breathes into his mouth, "More. Closer," he begs, stretching his legs out behind him so he's effectively laying directly on top of Dean. 

Dean chuckles against Cas' lips. "Sweetheart, if we got any closer than we already are, we'd have to be naked," he jokes, but his voice comes out desperate and wrecked against his will. 

Cas goes still above him and pulls back, only about an inch. "Is that... Is that something you want?" he whispers, his eyes flickering back and forth between Dean's eyes and his lips. He gives an experimental roll of his hips without waiting for an answer, which makes both of them groan. 

"Fuck- Cas, God," Dean breathes, and starts nodding his head furiously. "Yes. Yeah, of course I want that. Do you?"

Cas nods and drops his forehead to rest against Dean's. He rolls his hips down again and groans. "I want everything with you, Dean. All of it," he whispers, pressing a short kiss to Dean's lips. "Anything you'll give me, I want it. I just want you."

"All of me, Cas. You have all of me. Always have," Dean breathes into his mouth. He feels shy all of a sudden, exposed, even though he's still fully clothed. Well, if he's going to be on underneath Cas _feeling_ naked, he may as well _be_ a little more naked. He sits up just enough to reach behind his head and grab the back of his t-shirt just below the collar. He pulls it off and tosses it across the room, and Cas' eyes run over every single inch of newly exposed skin. Dean knows his face is heating up again. 

After this, they're just a mess of tangled limbs, soft moans, and silent declarations of love. Dean gives himself over to Cas wholly, in every way imaginable. They move together like they've been doing it for years, like they know each others bodies, inside and out. Dean supposes that, in a way, they do. Cas had rebuilt him, body and soul. It makes sense that he'd be able to take him apart again like this. And he does. 

It's over too soon, if you ask Dean, but he knows there will be many more chances to do it all again. He knows they'll be doing it over and over again, for the rest of their lives.

They both breathe heavily into each others space for a while before the sticky, wet feeling becomes too annoying for Dean to put up with any longer. He wipes them both clean with his previously discarded boxers and collapses next to Cas in bed. Neither of them speak for a long time. 

Soon after Dean lays back down, Cas grabs his hand and locks their fingers together. They lay there above the covers, wordless, hands locked for longer than Dean can say. He's not sleepy, he's not uncomfortable, he's just happy to be next to Cas. To have him here, no apocalypse looming over them, ready to write their own stories. Dean hopes Cas wants to be in the story he's writing. He doesn't want to write it without Cas. 

Cas speaks first. "I'm cold," he states, standing up to lift the covers. Dean does the same so they can crawl underneath the blankets together. Once they're settled, Dean opens his arms, an invitation. Cas crowds him immediately, slinging one arm over his middle and pushing one leg between Dean's. 

Dean chuckles and lets his hand rest in Cas' hair, scratching gently at his scalp. This is easy, this is peaceful. This is what Dean wants for the rest of his life. "You know I want you, right?" he whispers into Cas' hair. 

"Yes, Dean. I think you just proved that," Cas chuckles. "I want you, too. If it wasn't clear."

"No, Cas, jeez. I mean, I..." Dean trails off. What does he mean? That he wants to marry Cas? Well, yes, but he doesn't want to come on that strong. Maybe he should start with asking Cas to move into his room? Yeah, that's a good place to start. "I mean I want you, like, I want all of you. I want more of whatever just happened, duh. But I want... I want everything else, too, Cas." Dean hopes he's gotten his point across. He truly is shit at doing that, it seems. "Iwantyoutomoveintomyroomwithme." His words blur together and he figures as soon as he's done talking that he'll have to repeat himself. 

"You... what?" Cas asks. 

"I want you to move in with me. Like, into my room. Or we can move into yours, I don't really care, Cas. Just wanna live in the same space as you. Share a bed with you. Every night. All of it, Cas. I want all of it." Dean is looking him in the eyes now, petting a hand through Cas' hair. 

"Oh, okay." Cas smiles at him, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes. It makes Dean smile back and run his thumb over the crow's feet that have formed at the corners of his eyes. "Would you want to get married?" 

Dean chokes on nothing. He coughs a couple of times and stares at Cas wide-eyed for a few seconds before his head is nodding without his permission. "Y-yeah. Yeah," he says, because he can't think of a reason to say no.

Cas just smiles impossibly wider. "Good. Me too. And just know that I'm ready whenever you are, Dean, and I'll wait for you to bring it up again. No rush." 

Dean is so, so in love with this man. Angel. Human. Whatever. He doesn't care what Cas is.

"You don't think it's too fast?" Dean asks him, running one hand up and down Cas' spine. 

"I don't, no," Cas starts, shaking his head. "I think, quite frankly, we've waited long enough. For this. For everything." 

Dean hums in agreement. "Sorry it took me so long to catch up." 

"That's okay, Dean. We still have a lifetime ahead of us." 

"Yeah, Cas." A pause, "We do."

_-fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> if you loved it, feel free to leave me a comment. if you hated it, send me anon hate @ deanc0ded on tumblr. love you either way, and thanks for reading!


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